


A-Camping We Will Go

by silvereye5



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Camping, M/M, Sharing a Bed, all the cliches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:48:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28614609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvereye5/pseuds/silvereye5
Summary: Harry and Severus are forced to help chaperone the annual Muggle Studies camping trip.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 66
Kudos: 241





	1. A-Camping We Will Go

**Author's Note:**

> All of my camping experiences are American. This fic might not reflect authentic British camping culture. Though I did do some research, you may need to suspend your belief a bit and just enjoy.

Minerva read off the next line from the staff meeting agenda. “Sybil will not be returning from her sabbatical.” She scratched a line through the listed task before glancing around the table. “She’s decided to remain in Siberia.”

“Oh.” Severus clicked his tongue and banged his fist on the staff room table. “What an utter shame.”

“A true loss for us all,” Harry added from across the table. With a grin, he attempted, and failed, to grab Severus’ attention.

Minerva cleared her throat and continued, “We’ll need to look for a replacement.”

Severus leaned back in his chair, drumming each of his long fingers against the table. “Must we really though?” 

“Severus.”

“Minerva.”

Filius clinked the edges of his teacup as he stirred in a cube of sugar. “Divination’s a useless subject.”

“Thank you, Filius. We agree entirely,” Severus said, nodding once in the man’s direction.

Harry pressed his lips together, pulled his hands into his lap, and picked at his thumbnail.

“Nevertheless,” Minerva laced her fingers together and placed them on the table, “the board will insist the subject be covered at Hogwarts.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “You cannot teach true divination.”

Harry listened as they discussed the merit of replacing Trelawney. Well, half listened. No one ever paid him any mind at staff meetings. Mostly the old guard passed opinions back and forth while the handful of newer staff members looked on. He made his own cup of tea, grabbed a couple of biscuits from the platter, and settled in.

This was only Harry’s second year on staff as the DADA professor. He’d got the job straight out of his Defense Mastery Program. The last bloke that held the Defense professorship made it three years without anything catastrophic happening. Thus, the general consensus was that the position was now curse-free. Severus hadn’t wanted it. He’d gone back to teaching Potions.

Aside from Minerva taking over as Headmistress (after Severus refused to even be considered), the rest of the staff was about the same as when Harry was a student. There was a new Transfiguration professor, Edmund Mead, but he was absolutely ancient and never said anything at all. Then, there was Cecily Brunswork, the new Muggle Studies professor and the only other staff member near as young and untried as Harry. He smiled at her down at the other end of the staff table as he took his first sip of tea. That, of course, Severus took notice of. The man’s eyes darted between the two of them. Harry braced for a sneer, but Severus only crossed his arms against his chest and looked back at Minerva.

Harry had left Severus alone after the war, and Severus had made no attempt to contact Harry. When Harry’d first started at Hogwarts, he was keen to make friends with his old professor. They’d been allies. They had history. If Severus did not want to make friends with Harry then perhaps, at the very least, they could be civil acquaintances.

Harry rallied himself up to the daunting task. Drummed up a few viable avenues of conversation. Even practiced saying ‘Severus’ in the mirror before his first staff meeting. He thought that act alone might rile the man up a bit and break the ice. But it was for naught. Being co-workers hadn’t mattered. The passage of years hadn’t mattered.

And, it wasn’t that Severus was rude, or even cold. He was nothing. He didn’t insult Harry. He didn’t go out of his way to avoid him. He just didn’t seem to care that Harry was there one way or another. And that was worse. After everything Harry now knew about the man— It was much, much worse. The indifference stung.

Severus placed an elbow on the table, fisted his hand, and laid his cheek to rest against it. With his other hand, he scribbled away on a piece of parchment. His face scrunched up in a way that made his nose seem smaller. There was a set of wrinkle lines that branched up from the bridge of his nose. Two perfect, little scowl lines. 

“Mr. Potter.”

Harry jerked his head in the direction of the voice. Minerva. It’d been years since she called him ‘Mr. Potter’. She gave him a significant look. He’d missed something. He looked around the table and everyone looked back at him. Except Severus, naturally.

“Er, sorry,” Harry said. “Did you ask me something, Headmistress?”

“I asked you to chaperone the Muggle Studies camping trip at the end of the month.”

Harry’s mouth fell open, but no words came out.

Severus snorted and sat up straight.

“You as well.” Minerva turned towards Severus and Harry’s eyes went wide.

Severus responded with a simple, “No.”

“It wasn’t a request,” Minerva said. “To either of you.”

“It can’t possibly be my turn already.” 

“The duty is not turn-based, Severus.”

“I’m unavailable.” Severus shook his head. “I have potions-”

“I checked with Poppy. She has no pressing needs.”

Severus turned, found the mediwitch a few seats down, and sent her a glare fierce enough to melt salt.

Minerva continued, “You and Harry are the youngest staff members, aside from Cecily. You are more equipped to handle the rigors of the trip.”

The annual Muggle Studies camping trip was a new tradition, aimed to encourage enrollment in the elective. Cecily had started it and it wasn’t the worst idea. All of the third years signed up for the class just so they could go camping somewhere in Cornwall for a week over the Easter hols.

They weren’t allowed to use magic at all while there. 

No wands. No potions. No wizarding objects of any kind. 

Just twenty 13-year-olds and a couple chaperones. 

“Cecily, of course, will be there,” Minerva continued with a nod toward the Muggle Studies professor, “and Rolanda volunteered again.”

Rolanda smiled. “Wouldn’t miss it. Always a lovely change of pace, and the whole venture is invigorating.”

“So,” Minerva said. “We have two female chaperones and we needed two male ones. Severus, Harry, you boys are it. End of discussion.”

Harry met Severus’ eyes. Severus huffed, rolled his, and returned them to his parchment.

**********

“That doesn’t actually sound like any fun, mate,” Ron said.

“I know that.”

“That Cecily Brunswork girl is nice to look at, at least.” Ron scrubbed a hand across the stubble on his chin. It made that scratchy sound Harry always liked, it being so quintessentially male and all. Ron smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. “Will you get to share a tent with her, one of those little Muggle ones?”

Harry scoffed. “Ron, there’ll be two dozen students with us.”

“So.” His shoulders lifted once and dropped again. The many trinkets pinned to his auror robes made a tinkling sound, one loud enough Harry could hear it even over the chatter and buzz of Rosmerta’s. “You’ve not dated anyone since Ginny, and that was a lifetime ago.”

“Yeah, not interested in having that conversation tonight. How’s work?”

“The usual nonsense. Robards has got his knickers in a twist about this case down in Sussex. An old family, you know, one that gives loads of money to Ministry foundations, they had their dog stolen, or so they say. I reckon it ran away. Tired of all the primping and preening. Plus, the lady carried the thing around with her in this bag. _A bag_. It was a posh bag, don’t get me wrong, but it was still a ruddy bag. Robards doesn’t want to hear it though, just wants the pampered dog found.”

Harry never for a moment envied Ron’s choice to join the MLE. Harry’s life at Hogwarts was peaceful and quiet. Simple. Things weren’t perfect. He was still finding his footing with the other professors. He was still establishing his reputation with students. He was still looking, looking, looking for stability and security, but he was the happiest he’d ever been. He was happy with the new life he’d created from the shards of the old one. He never looked back, only forward. He did what made him feel fulfilled and whole. He did what he wanted to do. No more, no less.

“Weasley!” Rolanda appeared, pulled back a chair, and thumped her mug down onto the table. “You here for the camp chaperone meeting too?”

Ron chuckled. “Never. Just catching a drink with Harry during the few spare minutes we get that line up. You been following the Cannons this season?”

“Course,” she replied and the two were off. Harry joined in here and there, until he caught sight of Cecily and Severus as they came through the door together. She was a cute girl, Harry supposed. Curvy and soft looking. She always smelled nice, like something sugar-y and light. Her skin was dark and smooth. Severus was the opposite of curvy and soft, of sugar and light. He was all long lines and sharp edges. He slid into the seat next to Harry, the only empty chair at the table, bringing with him the scent of sandalwood and mint. He settled back with his arms crossed, neither acknowledging Harry existed nor looking put out at having to sit next to him.

“Right, well, I’ll let you get on with things then.” Ron stood and tossed a few coins onto the table to pay for his drink. “Nice chatting with you, Hooch. Lovely to see you again Cecily. Snape. I’ll floo you later, Harry.”

Harry, Rolanda, and Cecily said their good-byes. Severus flicked his wrist in Ron’s direction.

Cecily tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and held up a stack of papers. “I brought trip agendas.”

“Nope.” Rolanda lifted a hand to both stop Cecily and to gain a waiter’s attention. “No business until I have some food in front of me.”

“Right, right. Of course.” Cecily tucked her skirt against the back of her thighs as she sat down in the chair Ron had just vacated. She tapped the agendas against the table into a neat, ordered pile.

Harry smiled. “I’d like to take a look at one.”

“Oh,” she said, perking up and handing one across to him. “There you are then.”

Harry thanked Cecily as Rosmerta herself appeared at the table. She propped one hand on the back of Severus’ chair. The two nodded a greeting at each other. Rosmerta gave Severus’ shoulder a quick squeeze and Harry’s fingers clenched against the parchment in his hand.

“What can I get for you lot?” Rosmerta asked, oblivious. “We got steak and kidney on special for the night. You want?”

“Sounds like just the ticket,” said Rolanda.

“All right. What about you, Potter?”

“Um.” Harry shook off the burst of emotion. Took a breath. Smiled up at Rosmerta and ordered. “Cottage pie.”

Cecily added, “The soup of the day is fine, and a butter beer, please.”

“Oh, yeah.” Harry jumped in. “Another butter beer would be great.”

Severus sighed, dramatically. “I’ll have the cottage pie as well. And a water, please.”

Harry grinned at the side of Severus’ head, about to comment on them being like-minded, but Rosmerta smirked down at Severus’ upturned face and winked. “Way to live dangerously, Severus.”

Severus swatted her away and Harry’s grin fell. It made sense Severus would be friendly with Rosmerta. He’d known her since he was eleven, or maybe longer. Maybe his mum had brought him here when he was younger than that. Harry didn’t know. He didn’t know Severus at all. Harry pulled his nearly empty mug closer, ran a finger through the condensation circling the bottom.

“First,” Cecily began, handing around the rest of the agendas. “I just want to thank you all for chaperoning. Harry, Severus, I know you weren’t especially keen, but the kids really do love this trip.”

“Oh, no. It’s fine,” Harry said. “I probably would have loved it too, as a student. Might even have taken Muggle Studies if the camping thing had been part of the course back in the day.”

“Ugh.” Severus’ lip curled. “Only to have Albus compel me to go. What an awful thought.”

“Is that somehow different from the present day?” Rolanda asked, grinning. “When Minerva compels your participation instead?”

“My life is an endless parade of hardships and burdens, Hooch.”

Rolanda guffawed and Cecily chuckled nervously. Harry, having been one of those burdens, didn’t know how to respond. He instead looked down at the itinerary Cecily had given him. The dates were written across the top. Under that there was a packing list. Then, a list of tent assignments. Oh no…

“What the bloody hell is this?” Severus waved his copy of the schedule around. “Why does this say I’m sharing a tent with Potter?”

“Suck it up, Snape,” Rolanda said, watching the descent of her dinner plate to the table. “We’ve limited tents available. Everyone has to bunk up.”

“It won’t be a picnic for me either, you know,” Harry said. He’d be sharing a tent with Severus. Severus Snape. One of those cozy, little Muggle ones Ron had been excited about Harry squishing into with Cecily. He’d be squishing himself up against _Severus Snape_ instead. Harry’s cheeks burned. “I mean, you probably snore.”

Severus’ dark eyes bored into Harry’s. “I do not snore.”

Harry twitched under the attention, caught in Severus’ heated gaze. Harry swallowed it down and said, “With that nose?”

“Shut up, Potter.” Severus tossed the paper into the center of the table. He picked up his fork and pointed the tines at Cecily. “I want my displeasure noted.”

“Oh,” Cecily glanced from Harry to Severus. “Alright, um, noted.”

“Ignore him, Cee,” Rolanda said. “Severus is all piss and vinegar, but he gets the job done at the end of the day. So does Potter, and he’s not a shiny sunbeam of light and cheer either.”

Harry’s brow wrinkled. “Oi, uncalled for.”

They all tucked into their meals while the food was still hot. The mashed potatoes on his cottage pie had just the right amount of lumpiness, and the little onions and peas burst against his palate. The carrots were just this side of sweet and the gravy was thick and savory and it all hit Harry in the exact right way, making him moan his appreciation.

Severus’ fork clattered against his plate. He turned a glare on Harry.

“What?” Harry asked around his mouthful of food. 

“Eat quietly.”

Harry straightened his spine. He scooped up another bite of food and shoveled it in, scraping the tines of the fork against his teeth as he withdrew it. He groaned even louder. Leaning into Severus’ space, Harry said, “Mmmmm. So good.”

Severus pressed his lips into a firm line. He pushed away from the table and stomped off in the direction of the loos. Harry’s eyes followed Severus’ retreat. The black robes disappeared around the corner and Harry’s shoulders slumped. This was the exact sort of childish behavior Harry’d wanted to show he’d matured past.

Harry swirled his fork through a puddle of gravy. He traced his fingers over the words on his printed itinerary. _Hiking, Campfires, Bird-Watching._ Harry hatched a plan. This week of camping, in forced proximity, was Harry’s chance. He would prove he deserved a bit of Severus’ regard. By the end of the week, Severus would see that Harry Potter was worth knowing.


	2. Popping Tents, Marshmallows, and Other Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day One

**Day One**

In a flurry of wind and magic, the four chaperones and two dozen students arrived at a tree-lined clearing in Cornwall. Cecily, Rolanda, Severus, and Harry had spent the last hour shrinking supplies, apparating them to the site, enlarging them, and then returning to Hogwarts for more. Now, tents and tarps, food and water, sleeping bags, firewood, camp chairs, and on and on and on, were piled around the group.

Harry’d had no idea Muggles needed so much stuff for a simple camping trip. When he, Ron, and Hermione had been on the run the last year of the war, all they had had was Hermione’s magic bag. The amount of supplies Cecily had gathered reassured Harry that at least this experience wouldn’t be as bleak as that one. He kept this thought in mind as he reluctantly tucked his wand away beside the others in a lockbox for the week. Severus’ fingers clenched around his own ebony wand before placing it beside Harry’s. Harry wanted to give the man’s shoulder a consoling pat, but settled for a commiserating half-smile.

Cecily pulled down the cloaking charm that had hidden their arrival from the Muggles camping nearby before adding her wand to the box. It was the last bit of magic the group would see for a week. Harry sighed and gave the clearing a proper look. Their campsite was nestled on the edge of a Muggle campground. Distant enough from the other campers that he couldn’t see the bright colors of their tents, but close enough that he caught the scent of grilled meat and campfire smoke. The big advantage of the Muggle grounds was the access to the wonders of modern plumbing: water spigots, showers, and toilets. He was grateful they wouldn’t be squatting behind bushes all week.

“Ok, students.” Cecily clapped her hands, waiting for their attention before continuing. “First things first, we’ll want to set up our campsite while we still have plenty of daylight. Grab a tent bag, a handful of stakes, and have at it. Keep in mind what we went over in class, yes?”

Harry’d never set up a proper tent in his life. He glanced at Severus. Severus sure didn’t seem like the type of person that had done it either. But Severus also didn’t seem like the type to wear jeans and he was definitely wearing a pair at this very moment. Wearing them quite well, actually. Severus had shown up for the trip in a pair of heavy black boots, worn-in jeans that hugged a surprisingly nice arse, and a waffle-weave thermal with a faded _Berlin Potions Conference 1992_ t-shirt layered over the top. He looked bloody spectacular, like a normal bloke out for a jaunt in the wilderness.

Harry hoped it was more show than go. The last thing he wanted this week was for Severus to carry him through this trip. That went directly against the plan Harry had hobbled together. A plan that included voraciously studying an _Idiot’s Guide to Camping_ in his free time over the last few days.

Harry straightened his shoulders and approached Severus. “We need to find a flat spot for the tent and clear it of any debris, like rocks or tree branches.”

“Hm.” Severus kept his eyes on the students picking out their tents from the heap. “Thank Merlin you’re here, Potter. I never would have known not to erect my tent on a boulder without you.”

“I live to serve, Severus.” The man’s head swiveled in Harry’s direction, a dark eyebrow arched above an indifferent expression. Harry smiled. “I’ll go pick out a tent for us then.”

Harry grabbed the supplies they would need, ticking off the checklist in his mind. The _Idiot’s Guide_ hadn’t made the process look too difficult. Click Part A into Part B. Pull this, secure that. Step One, Step Two, Step Three, and viola: tent.

Harry carried everything over to the site Severus had selected. A cozy spot along the tree line, far enough away from where the students were setting up that Harry and Severus would not be kept up at night by their inevitable antics, but close enough that they could still supervise and intervene, if needed.

Severus kicked away branches and stones, bending down to dislodge a more stubborn one. The jeans hugged his hips, thighs, and bottom in such a normal way, hung-low but well-fitted. Nothing at all like the yards and yards of flowing fabric that usually covered him. It was like seeing a unicorn play Quidditch or something. Strange and wonderful and infinitely rare. He didn’t want to look away. Severus threw a stick at him, and, on instinct, Harry dodged left. Their eyes met and Harry dropped the supplies at his own feet, tripping forward over them to go help.

When an acceptable, square-sized spot of grass was clear, Harry said, “We need to lay the tarp down where we want the tent. It’ll make the ground a bit softer and help keep out any rain or moisture.”

The skin around Severus’ eyes contracted, pinching into minute wrinkles. He scooped up the blue plastic tarp and unfolded it in a crash of crinkly noise, fluffing it out and spreading it on the grass. Together, they arranged the edges of the tent on top of the tarp and hammered it into the ground with tent pegs. Harry showed Severus how to twist the thin rods together and loop them through the holes that lined the sewn seams of the tent. Severus studied Harry’s hands, watching their movements intently before copying them. The attention made Harry’s heart thud against his sternum. His hands shook as he begged the universe to guide them through the correct motions.

It must have listened because before long the tent popped into existence. It was much smaller than Harry’d expected. A peek into the entryway had Harry uncomfortably remembering his cupboard back at the Dursley’s.

“Well,” Harry said, as they both stood before it. “It’s cozy.”

Severus’ mouth twitched and he grunted.

“It’ll be warmer this way, at least. We should zip it up to keep the bugs out.”

Severus clicked his tongue and speedily leaned over to seal the tent up, tugging the zipper quickly through its arc of teeth.

“Professor Potter.” Harry turned around to find Andrew Sutherland standing in front of him, tangled tent poles in hand. Sutherland continued, “Can you help us with our tent, sir?”

And that is how they spent the next hour. Going from campsite to campsite and helping the students construct and secure their tents. The students grabbed sleeping bags and disappeared inside their temporary homes to settle in and arrange their belongings. The professors met to assemble a kind of communal area with picnic tables, cooking gear, and orange coolers full of water.

Cecily handed Harry and Severus metal water bottles with their names painted in white on the sides. She smiled and said, “It’s important to stay hydrated. We’ll need to remind the kids constantly.”

Severus pushed his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, unscrewed the lid, and placed the open end to the tap on the water cooler. The faded Dark Mark marred his forearm, a grey, unfocused smudge. Its edges bled into the delicate white skin around it. Harry tilted his head and traced it around, from skull to twisted snake and back up again. Severus caught Harry staring. His mouth pressed into a flat line and he shoved the sleeves down to his wrists. Harry averted his eyes.

“So,” Cecily took a sip from her bottle. “Rolanda and I are on dinner duty tonight. Harry, Severus, you guys can handle the campfire and whatnot, yeah?”

“Course,” Harry said, higher and more earnest than he intended. He cleared his throat and added, “Easy as pie.”

Cecily smiled; Harry smiled back. Cecily’s cheeks went a bit pink. Harry’s eyes darted from one rosy patch of skin to the other. He went to push his glasses up his nose, remembered he no longer wore them, and diverted his hand to flatten his fringe instead. Severus made a phlegmy kind of noise right as Rolanda hoisted a second orange cooler on top of the table.

“Can never have enough water on these trips,” Rolanda said, dusting off her hands.

“Um.” Cecily’s brow wrinkled and she shook her head. “We will need to see if we can find a few down hours for two of us to sneak off and set up the scavenger hunt.”

“No real rush on that,” Rolanda said. “I like how we closed out the trip with that event last year.”

“It was nice.” Cecily looked at Severus and then quickly shifted over to Harry. “Usually, we start the trip with that, so the kids can get familiar with their surroundings, but it was raining last year.”

Harry nodded, shoved his hands in his pockets, and glanced at Severus. Severus picked at a thread on his shirt cuff. Harry straightened his back and said, “I am more than happy to help with anything. Whatever you need me to do.”

“That’s the spirit, Potter.” Rolanda was filling a strange little backpack with water. “You’ll have more fun if you properly embrace the thing.”

Cecily reached over to circle Harry’s forearm with her fingers. “I’m so happy you came, Harry.”

Harry stared at her hand on his skin and his brows drew together. The contrast between them was lovely; him, hairy and masculine, and her, silky smooth and feminine. He met her eyes and nodded, trying to convey a neutral acknowledgment. She withdrew her hand and Harry moved his gaze to Severus.

Severus had a dark, faraway look in his eyes. It reminded Harry of Occlumency lessons in the cold dungeons of Hogwarts. If Severus was anybody else, if he was Ron or Hermione, Harry would nudge him with a shoulder, pull him out of whatever funk he was burrowing himself into.

Severus wasn’t anybody else though. Not yet. By the end of this week, maybe, if things played out as Harry hoped, he could be someone that knew how to rescue Severus from his own thoughts. Someone Severus wanted pulling him from his thoughts.

**********

Harry and Severus were crouched together, knees knocking and elbows tangling, as they finagled a campfire into existence.

“Merlin,” Harry puffed out a breath and blew his fringe from his eyes. “I miss magic.”

“On that, Potter,” Severus fluffed the abandoned bird’s nest the kids had found to use as kindling, “We bloody agree.” He pulled his hands back. “Try again.”

“Eleventh times the charm, I guess.”

Harry scraped, scraped, scraped the fire starter over their dried, brittle little bundle. Severus craned his head and watched. The students ringed themselves around the fire pit and watched. Sweat broke out at Harry’s temples, across the small of his back, and under his arms as he too watched. Smoke gathered and clouded the space above the bird’s nest. Severus leaned over and blew on it, stoking it, trying to force the flame to catch. Or, so Harry hoped. That’s what he had read in the _Idiot’s Guide_ on any account.

A lock of Severus’ hair fell forward over his shoulder and Harry reached for it, visions of the man’s hair catching fire filling his head and pushing out rational thought. Harry pooled all of the man’s hair into a silky ponytail and held it. It was soft. Really soft. Harry rubbed a thumb over the thin strands. 

Severus straightened and brought Harry’s hand with him. He narrowed his eyes and shifted them between Harry’s fingers wrapped around his hair and Harry’s reddening face.

“Sorry,” Harry said and released his hair. “I didn’t want it to catch fire.”

“That won’t be an issue.” Severus swept his hands in the direction of the smoky but not at all flaming campfire pit. “This is clearly not working.”

“Blast.” Harry sighed. “Let’s go again, yeah.”

Severus nodded, his lips pressed together in a determined way. “This time I will utilize the scraping device there, and you will blow for me.”

Harry chuckled, and so did a few of the students around them.

Severus stared them all down.

Harry pressed his palm against his mouth, wiped away his smile, and said, “It looked so much easier in the book.”

“The theory seems sound enough.” Severus held the metal fire starter in one hand and the scraper in his other hand. He looked from one to the other and murmured, “Why on earth didn’t that girl just bring a lighter?”

“Right?” Harry said, conspiratorially, leaning in, matching Severus’ low voice. “Bloody ridiculous.”

“Professor Brunswork likes for us to learn new ways of doing things,” Abigail Hollingseed, a Ravenclaw girl, said. “You don’t appreciate things that come too easily. That’s the whole point of the trip.”

“Oh. That’s a great lesson.” Harry grimaced and met Severus’ eyes. He bit his lip to keep from laughing at the annoyed expression on Severus’ face. 

Severus scraped the sharp edge down the fire starter, feeling the device out and sending sparks flying uselessly about. He bent down to apply his new skill to the dormant pile. Before they’d started, he and Severus had sent the kids off to find the various bits of twigs and kindling they needed. Cecily had brought firewood, but only the big logs they’d need once the fire was going. Those logs were waiting off to the side, probably judging them.

Severus pressed the fire starter into the dry kindling and scraped. And scraped.

Sparks caught and Harry bent over to blow life into the budding flames. Smoke billowed around him, burning his nostrils and making his eyes water.

“Come on, come on,” Severus said through his teeth over Harry’s shoulder.

“Professor Potter, Professor Potter, Professor Potter,” the students chanted.

He appreciated their encouragement. Hoped he could live up to all their expectations. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, needing to keep the sting of the smoke out, desperate to be the one that got the fire going for Severus. For the kids.

The students whooped and hollered and Severus pulled Harry’s head from the now engulfed pile of bird’s nest, leaves, and sticks.

Harry sat back on his heels, looked at the flickering flames of their campfire. He brushed moisture from his eyes, swiped his knuckles against his nostrils, and said, “Oh, thank Merlin.”

Severus poked and prodded and stoked the fire higher and higher. Heat radiated out in lovely, rolling waves. Harry’s muscles unwound as he sunk into the feeling.

A bell rung out as Rolanda called out, “Dinner!”

The students raced away from the fire pit and towards the picnic area. Harry and Severus stayed knelt by their fire, shoulder to shoulder. Harry wasn’t ready to abandon the manifestation of their mutual accomplishment just yet. He wasn’t done appreciating it in all its, truly beautiful,fiery glory.

Eventually, Severus pushed himself to his feet and Harry followed. Dinner did smell good, and Harry was starving from all of the unpacking, setting up of camp, and maintaining his positive, ‘I-got-this’ attitude. He wanted to fill his face with food, drink a beer by the fire, and then pass out in his tent.

With Severus.

Harry blew out a breath as he joined the end of the queue for dinner. Cecily, Rolanda, and some of the students had grilled hamburgers. Harry planned to eat a dozen of them. With cheese and tomatoes and onions, smothered in ketchup. There was also various crisps and apple slices, but Harry didn’t look twice at them. He fixed up two hamburgers on his plate. Beer, unfortunately, was not an option. Harry refilled his water bottle instead before finding the last empty picnic table.

He’d taken an ambitious bite, juice dripping from the corner of his mouth, when Severus walked up to his table with a pinched expression. He placed his plate, one plain burger and a handful of apple slices, down across from Harry. Harry supposed it was either join Harry or a gaggle of students. Harry swallowed and smiled at him. Severus sighed and sat down.

Cecily and Rolanda joined them after they’d served the last of the students. Dinner was loud and raucous and delicious. Harry only ended up eating the two burgers, especially after Cecily said they’d be having s’mores around the campfire that night. Harry’d never had one before, but they sounded tasty and he wanted room in his stomach for a couple of them.

Once the sun had set, the air cooled considerably. Harry went back to their tent to grab his jumper before he joined everyone else at the campfire. They’d set up foldable camp chairs in concentric rings around the pit. Severus had set his chair up close to the fire. He had his hands tucked into his armpits and was bent forward towards the fire.

Harry pulled a chair up next to him and plopped down. “You cold?”

“I’m fine, Potter,” he said, but Harry could see a fine tremble snaking down his arms.

“We can scooch closer to the fire.”

“We?”

Harry tilted his head in an unimpressed way. “We are in this torture together, Severus.”

Cecily clapped her hands to gain their attention. “Alright, you lot. The time for roasting marshmallows has come!”

The students cheered and clapped. Even Harry couldn’t help grinning in anticipation.

Cecily showed them all how to shove the marshmallows onto the end of a stick and hold it over the fire at the perfect distance, ensuring it went all soft and gooey and not charred to a crisp. Then, she sandwiched it between a bit of chocolate and two graham crackers.

“That seems easy enough.” Harry rubbed his hands together and stood up. “You coming?”

Severus nestled back into his chair, tucking himself tightly away as everyone swarmed around him and gathered about the fire with their sticks. “Of course not.”

“You want me to make one for you? Might warm you up.”

“No.” Severus really knew how to emphasize a single syllable.

“Alright. If you’re sure.”

Harry bustled over to the pile of roasting sticks, picking a nice long one. Cecily came over and held open the bag of marshmallows. “Here you go, Harry.”

He said, “Thanks,” with a smile as he reached in for one.

“Are you having fun so far?”

Harry jammed the sweet into the end of his stick and shrugged. “Yeah. It’s only the first day, but yeah.”

Cecily smiled and continued to look at him expectantly.

Harry darted a look down to his marshmallow. “Okay, well, I’m gonna just go roast this now.”

She pointed to a little table. “The chocolate and crackers are over there.”

“I know. I saw when you showed everyone.”

“Oh, right. Of course.”

Harry’s marshmallow ended up burnt and crispy, but so did most people’s. He layered it awkwardly between the layers of chocolate and crackers, coming close to dropping it into the dirt. He carried it back over to Severus and sat down.

“Look.” He held it up for Severus to see.

Severus arched a brow and watched Harry take his first bite. Hot and gooey and, “Oh god,” so good. He knew if he looked over, he’d see Severus’ disgusted expression. Harry could feel the sticky remnants of the marshmallow gluing his mouth together at the corners, felt the melted chocolate warm on his lips. He didn’t even care. It tasted too fabulous. He took another bite.

“Severus, you are missing out.”

Harry popped the last bite into his mouth. Severus hadn’t responded so he glanced over at him. He found Severus staring at his mouth with a strange light in his eyes.

“I know,” Harry said, wiping uselessly at his lips and chin. “They are terribly messy, but I swear they are crazy good. I am going to make you one.”

Severus didn’t object so Harry scurried off to make two more. The process was much easier the second and third time around. Harry roasted, smooshed, and returned quickly with two more gooey handfuls.

He passed one over to Severus, who took it silently. Harry bit into the other one with a groan of delight. His second one disappeared in a blink and he turned to see if Severus had enjoyed his.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the completely intact s’more still pinched between Severus’ fingers. “You aren’t even going to try it?”

Without a word, Severus stretched his arm out to pass the s’more back to Harry.

“Fine.” Harry grabbed it. “If you are sure?” Once Severus nodded his consent, Harry dove in. Around a mouthful of chocolate and marshmallow, he said, “Your loss, my friend.”

Severus watched the s’more messily disappear into Harry’s mouth. He said, lowly, “You have chocolate on your fingers.”

“Oh.” Harry stuck his fingers into his mouth, one by one, and sucked the chocolate off.

Severus watched that too, his brow gathering and his tongue licking across his bottom lip. Harry shrugged the expression off. If he wanted some, he should have just eaten the s’more Harry gave him.

**********

The inside of the sleeping bags Cecily provided were rough and scratchy. Severus had shuffled himself into his and immediately clicked his tongue, griped and groaned and crawled right back out again.

Harry floated the idea of turning them inside out, but the outsides were made of a slippery waterproof material that stuck uncomfortably to Harry’s skin.

Severus scrubbed at his face with both hands. He growled and unzipped his suitcase, pulling out a forrest green jumper and a thick, quilted blanket. Harry, sat on top of his rumpled sleeping bag, watched as Severus pulled the jumper on over his sleeping clothes (soft-looking flannels and a long-sleeved shirt), then unzipped the sleeping bag and spread it on the floor of the tent, as much as he could in the tight quarters. It gathered and curled against the tent on one side and Harry’s sleeping bag on the other. Finally, Severus cocooned himself in the blanket he’d brought and laid down. 

All of this without saying a word to Harry.

Harry wished he’d thought to bring a blanket. It wasn’t freezing or anything, but it was chilly. He put on his own jumper and pulled the hood up. If he kept as much of his skin covered as possible, maybe the rough fabric of the sleeping bag wouldn’t grate against his skin so badly.

Harry turned on his side and settled in for the night. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes.

And then Severus snored. A deep, rattling inhale and a sigh of an exhale.

Harry opened his eyes and searched for Severus’ profile in the dark confines of their tent.

Severus had fallen asleep on his back. The sharp jut of his nose was dark against the moonlight wall of the tent. His mouth was slack, his lips parted slightly. Harry carefully, slowly pushed himself up onto an elbow and gazed down at the man beside him. This was the closest he’d ever been to Severus. He looked so peaceful in sleep, his face smooth and unlined, his mouth soft and full.

Harry had to squash the urge to touch him. He wanted to run a finger along his stubbled jawline, brush his thumb across Severus’ lips. Feel the warm breath against the pad of his finger. Severus’ jumper had bunched around his neck and tangled with his dark hair. Even that looked soft and cuddly. Harry wanted to bury his face against it.

And that was another thing, Severus smelled amazing. The campsite bathroom included shower stalls and Severus had been first in line after the campfire crowd dwindled and wandered off to their tents. His soap smelled of something dark and sweet and earthy. Harry closed his eyes and breathed it in. It set his bloody nerves on fire. Muscles tightened low in Harry’s gut and his cock twitched.

Harry’s eyes flew open.

He’d leant right over Severus, was a hair’s breadth away from fulfilling his dream of burying his face in the crook of the man’s throat.

Harry pulled back. All the way back. As far back as he could go in this, really, far-too-small-for-two-adult-men tent.

Another snore rattled out of Severus. His chest rising and falling with it.

Harry laid his head back down against his pillow and breathed. His eyes trailed up and down the body next to him. Severus. Severus Snape. The solid, very real body of Severus Snape. Harry had always been drawn to him, since that first day seventeen years ago. The why and how of that draw had changed and shifted over the years, but he’d always been awed by his strength and power and control. After the war, Harry was overwhelmed by the depths of his bravery. Lately, he’d been charmed by the git’s snarky humor, his insouciance. The grace of his movements, the lithe length of his body…Harry’d be lying if he didn’t admit watching the man move sparked something in him. Bloody hell, he _liked_ watching him.

His teeth were still crooked, and his nose was too big, but those things were a part of Severus. And he was so much more than his handful of physical flaws. They paled and faded in comparison to everything else that he was. Merlin, Harry was attracted to him. He wanted to touch him and hold him. He wanted to _know_ him. He wanted Severus to know _him._

The want burned a path beneath his skin, flooding him, overtaking him. How long had it been simmering away there in his subconscious? Is that why he’d wanted to gain his attention this week? Did he want to impress and befriend Severus so he could make a clumsy pass at him?

He did.

Christ.

He saw it now. He wanted to make Severus want him. He wanted Severus to want to know him as badly, as deeply as Harry wanted to know every little thing about Severus. What the man thought, what made him laugh, what he liked to eat, to drink. What were his deepest desires. His biggest regrets. Had he ever had a pet. Did he like teaching at Hogwarts. What was his favorite holiday. Every innocuous thing under the sun.

And the big things too. The things that swallowed him up on dark nights. The things that light a fire in him. The things that thrilled him and made him happy.

Harry wanted to know what made Severus tick, and he wanted him to tick in Harry’s direction.

What a brilliant time for this revelation. While they were stuck in the woods together for a week. Harry groaned and tucked himself into a ball inside his sleeping bag.


	3. Fishing Poles and Hiking Boots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Two

**Day Two**

Warmth cradled Harry’s body. It wrapped around him, sunk through skin and muscle, and settled into his bones. He wiggled, burrowing more deeply into the lovely comfort of it. The warmth nestled him back, looping its tendrils around Harry’s belly and pulling him in. It tucked itself over his shins and tangled its feet with his. Harry turned his head and his nose buried itself in silk soft hair that smelled of campfire and herbal shampoo. Harry wanted to hug the warmth back, to pull it impossibly closer against him, but his arms were trapped inside the confines of his sleeping bag, pinned to his sides by the firm weight of another body.

Harry’s eyes blinked open, took in the blurry roof of their tent.

 _Their_ tent.

Harry shifted his gaze down to the head of dark hair resting against him, then over to the now empty other half of the tent. He lifted his head, slowly, carefully, not wanting to disturb the man, and looked down the length of their bodies. Harry was on his back, still safely ensconced inside his sleeping bag. Severus could not blame him for what was happening. Severus was the one on his side of the tent, the one pressed against Harry. It was his arms curled around Harry’s middle, his legs snaked around Harry’s.

Harry laid his head back down against his pillow. Severus mumbled softly into the hollow of Harry’s throat. The heated puff of his breath whispered across delicate skin. Sent a crest of want cascading over Harry’s nerves, heating his blood and sending it rushing southward. Harry’d woken up half-hard, but this new wave of desire had his prick filling so quickly he had to close his eyes against the dizzying spin of blood loss.

Harry arched his head back to stifle a mounting groan crawling up from his gut. Severus tucked his face against Harry’s now open throat, his lips brushing warm and damp against Harry’s pulse point, and the sound broke from Harry’s throat, desperate and panicked.

Harry stilled, as much as was possible with his breath coming in shallow pants and his heart racing away inside his chest, afraid he’d woken Severus, but the man remained loose and pliant against him.

Harry needed to escape.

He swallowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed tightly against the long muscles of his throat. He started with the arm not pressed against Severus, shifting and squirming until he had it free. He lowered the zipper of the sleeping bag bit by bit until he could get one foot out. He nuzzled the dark head one last time, inhaling Severus sleep-warm scent, before shimming his way out of the man’s arms.

In the tight space left to him, Harry rolled and pushed up to his hands and knees.

Severus’ brows drew together and he made an unhappy little whimpering sound. He pulled Harry’s pillow into his arms and sighed back into his soft sprawl across Harry’s sleeping space.

Harry’s mouth tugged up in a half-smile. He wanted to run a hand through the tangle of dark hair hiding Severus’ face, tuck it back behind the gentle curve of his pale ear.

Harry hung his head and exhaled. He had to it bad. He scooted backwards towards the exit, grabbing his toiletry bag and a change of clothes along the way. How long had these feelings been bubbling beneath the surface of his consciousness? This couldn’t be new. The man was passed out, drooling and snoring lightly against his pillow, and Harry was waxing poetic about the whorl of his ear. As though he’d known and loved the shape of the man for ages.

Harry unzipped the door flap and slipped outside. He straightened and zipped it shut again, securing the man snuggly back into the warmth of their tent. Harry paused for a minute to listen, to be sure his escape had not woken the man up. It didn’t seem so. All within was quiet.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, closed his eyes, and pushed it all to the farthest recesses of his mind. He turned towards the loos to get himself ready. He had a long day of wrestling his new found crush on Severus Snape into submission.

**********

Harry needn’t have worried so much about being quiet. As it turned out, Severus slept like the dead. The whole camp had shuffled itself awake, Harry’d returned his toiletry bag and sleep clothes to the tent, the children had chattered and giggled and fought over their turns in the two shower stalls, Rolanda and Cecily had prepared eggs and bacon, the birds had twittered and sang, the crickets chirped and cheeped, and Severus had slept on and on and on…and on.

The students set about cleaning up breakfast as he, Rolanda, and Cecily put together a line of meats, cheeses, bread, granola bars, crisps, and fruit for them all to use to pack sack lunches for the hike that day. Since Severus still hadn’t roused himself from their tent, Harry went ahead and put together a lunch for Severus as well as himself.

Once they’d sent the kids off to lace up their boots and prepare their backpacks for the day, Harry knew he’d have to wake Severus up. He straightened his spine, rolled his shoulders back, and went for it. He couldn’t quite believe it when he opened the tent to find the man still sleeping, his limbs akimbo and his lips parted on a raspy snore. He’d suspected the man of faking it, of wanting only to avoid them all this morning, but Harry had to say his name several times plus jiggle his foot before Severus rumbled his way back to the land of the living. Severus blinked awake, grumbling and groaning and claiming he usually set an alarm with his wand. His brow furrowed as he looked down at Harry’s pillow beneath him and then over to his abandoned pillow behind him. Severus didn’t say a word about it though so Harry didn’t either.

Now, Harry forced a grin from his face as Severus blearily lined up for the day’s hike with a paper cup of coffee in his long-fingered grip. He looked rumpled and disheveled and only half-awake. Harry sidled up beside him, holding out a granola bar. Severus glared first at the offering and then at Harry. Harry shrugged and said, “You missed breakfast.”

Severus curled his lip and grunted.

“You’ll need energy for the hike.” Harry waggled it under his nose. “Unless you want me carrying you after you pass out.”

“I will not pass out.” Severus sneered his way through the last two words, his voice still scratchy with sleep. Severus snatched the granola bar. Mockingly, he added, “Carry me.” He ripped open the wrapper. “You’re the size of a crup.”

Harry arched an eyebrow and did a couple half-squats. “I have strong thighs. From years of Quidditch.” Severus made a disgusted face as he watched Harry and ate his breakfast in two bites. “You’re tall and skinny. I’d hoist you over my shoulders,” Harry mimed his words, “the old fireman carry.”

Severus blinked, chewed. Narrowed his eyes.

“All right, you lot,” Rolanda called out from the front of the line. “We’ve got a bit less than two hours of hiking ahead of us. Once we arrive, we’ll eat our lunch, then spend the afternoon fishing at the lake up there. Who’s ready?”

The students cheered and lifted their fishing rods up into the air. Harry’d finagled his rod into his backpack; it was currently sticking up into the air over his head. Severus didn’t appear to have a rod, but no matter. If Severus didn’t spend time fishing himself, Harry had more opportunity to impress the man with his own skill. Not that Harry’d ever fished, but _The Idiot’s Guide to Camping_ made it seem simple enough. He only had to drop the hook end into the water and wait. How hard could it be?

Rolanda and Cecily led them to a trail not too far from their camp. It wasn’t a difficult hike. The trail was well-marked and wide. Carved into the side of a hill, one edge of it rounded upward while the other sloped downward. Dramatically so in some places. Harry peeked over one such rocky cliff. It disappeared down into a dark tangle of wilderness and brush. Hopefully, no one tripped and ended up tumbling over the side. That’d be a disaster. Kids were prone to disaster though. _Harry_ was prone to disaster. He stepped back from the edge.

Instead, he took in the wider view. Harry could see the coast at this new elevation. The water was blue, white-tipped from the surf. Cecily had said there was a little cove nearby with water warm enough they could take the students for some swimming and sunbathing. That was on the docket for later in the week. 

The sun climbed higher and higher as they walked. Sweat pooled against the small of Harry’s back, trickled a path down toward the waistband of his jeans. After about a half hour, Harry stopped to pull off a layer of clothing, leaving him in a simple t-shirt. Most of the kids followed suit, removing jumpers, hoodies, thermals and shoving them into their packs. As they slowed to undress, Cecily took the chance to shout out, “Remember to drink water!”

Severus huffed, but did, in fact, bring out a water bottle and take a couple sips from it. When he was done, Severus yanked off his sweater, leaving him in a clean, tight, black shirt. There wasn’t a patch of sweat anywhere on him. Not a single bead of perspiration marred his skin. All that pale, pale, pale skin remained just that: pale. Harry’d imagined the man would turn into a tomato in the sun. Or, if rumors were to be believed, burst into flames. Harry smiled, small and private, and brought his own water bottle to his lips.

They arrived at the lake before too long. It was small and more green than blue. A wooden dock stretched along one side, jutting out over the water. The shoreline was rocky and circled with sporadic groupings of boulders. The students dropped their backpacks and fishing rods. They pulled out their sack lunches and sat down on the bigger boulders to eat.

Severus perched his bum on a boulder a decent distance away from the kids and crossed his legs at the ankles. Harry let his pack fall to the ground next to Severus’ boulder. Severus looked at it, exhaled a breathy sigh, and shifted his gaze out to the lake. “I am aware Professor Brunswork is utilizing the ‘buddy system’ with the children, but I am, in fact, not a child, Potter, and you are not my buddy.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to eat lunch with me?”

“Feel free to assume that I never want to do anything with you.”

Harry bent over and unzipped his bag. He pulled out two brown paper bags. “But I packed food for you and everything.”

Severus eyed the bag with pursed lips.

“It’s got a sandwich in it. Ham and cheese with a bit of mustard. Vinegar crisps. A banana.”

Severus grabbed it and Harry grinned. He dusted a couple leaves off the boulder across from Severus’ and settled down, pulling his legs up and sitting criss-cross. Severus rummaged around in his paper bag and pulled out the sandwich.

Harry asked, “Did I pick out the right crisps? I’ll trade you if you don’t care for them. I’ve got plain ones here in my bag.”

“Salt and vinegar is fine.”

“I thought you’d like them. You seem like a salt and vinegar man.”

Severus shot him an unamused look and unwrapped his sandwich. He held up a triangle half, pinched between two fingers, and clicked his tongue.

Harry’s cheeks went warm and he shook his head. “Do you not like the diagonal cut? Should I have cut it into rectangles?”

“As a grown adult, I find I don’t need my sandwich cut in half at all anymore.”

Severus glared at the sandwich before he took a bite. Harry opened his crisps and watched Severus eat the rest of the triangle in another four quick bites. The hike hadn’t been particularly strenuous, but Harry’d certainly worked his breakfast off. Severus must be starving with only a granola bar in his stomach. Severus dug into the other half of his sandwich and something warmed in Harry’s gut. He resisted the urge to hand over his own sandwich to Severus; Harry popped a crisp into his mouth instead.

After Severus had made his way through the rest of his sandwich, the banana, and half his crisps, Harry asked, “Have you ever fished before?”

Severus swallowed and flicked a crumb from his jeans before answering, “Of course.”

“You didn’t bring a fishing rod.” Harry gestured towards their bags with half his banana. “Did you forget yours? Oh, was it because you overslept?”

“I did not oversleep.” Severus shifted in his seat and uncrossed his legs, planting them firmly on the ground. “I’m here to supervise the children, not join in with them.”

“You absolutely overslept.” Harry took a bite of his banana. “You were snoring. Everyone was up, fed, and dressed before you even peeled your eyelids apart.”

Severus’ lips pinched together and he shoved the remnants of his lunch back into the bag.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’m jealous. Wish I could sleep like that.”

Severus wrinkled his nose. “I am not embarrassed.”

“Good.” Harry tucked his empty banana peel around itself. “I sleep like shite.”

Severus’ tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth. He inhaled and said, “I—”

“Hello, boys.” Cecily appeared out of nowhere, jiggling the open end of a bin bag at them. “Have any rubbish?”

Harry and Severus tossed their lunch leftovers into the bag. Cecily closed the bag and dropped down next to Harry on his boulder with a smile. She had her hair woven into two thick plaits on the sides of her head. Harry leaned closer and sniffed. “How do you still smell so nice after hiking for two hours?”

“Oh.” Her cheeks went pink. “Good deodorant?”

Severus said, “You’ve not been sneaking your wand out for a little freshening up charm, have you?”

“Of course not.”

Harry licked his lips. “You smell sweet. Like biscuits or something.”

Severus clicked his tongue. Harry turned his head and caught the man rolling his eyes as well. Harry looked back at Cecily with a smile. He could go for a biscuit or two if she was smuggling some.

“Um.” Cecily toyed with the end of one plait. “Are you ready for some fishing?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve never actually fished before, but how hard could it be?”

“I’m sure you’ll pick it up quick enough.”

Harry nodded. “And Severus has fished before, he just said. I can always ask him for help.”

Harry caught Severus’ gaze and smiled at him, encouragingly. Severus’ eyes darted over to Cecily, then skipped past Harry to move out to the lake, glazed over with disinterest. Harry’s shoulders slumped. This morning, Severus warm and docile and curled around him, felt far, far away. As did Harry’s goal of charming Severus into a simple friendship. His ridiculous crush struck him as particularly absurd, almost shameful. He twitched his lips into a kind of smile once more for Cecily’s sake, then looked down at his hands fisted in his lap.

After the students had eaten, Cecily and Rolanda gathered them up by the shore with their rods in hand to give them a quick lesson on fishing. Some of the kids were a bit squeamish about baiting a hook, but it wasn’t so different from some of the things they’d been forced to do in Potions or Herbology class. Rolanda demonstrated casting a line and reeling in a catch. It aligned with what Harry had read in his book. He and the other professors walked up and down the row of students, making sure they had the hang of it before letting them have at it for the afternoon.

The sun was properly up now, sitting high in the sky and beating down on them, even through the tree cover. Harry took up a spot at the end of the students with his own fishing rod. He prepped his hook as Severus settled into a spot close behind him on a low boulder, legs neatly crossed and his fingers laced together over his knee cap. 

“Do you want to take turns with the rod?” Harry offered.

Severus tucked his hair behind his ears. The ends curled against the pink scars on his throat. He shook his head and said, “No.”

Harry hadn’t thought Severus would. He sighed and turned back to his task. He cast, just as he’d been shown, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Cheers went up each time one of the students reeled in a fish. Rolanda caught five, Cecily two, and Harry was still standing there empty-handed. He could feel Severus’ eyes on him, judging him. Unable to accomplish such a simple task as this.

Sweat beaded across Harry’s forehead. It dripped into his eyes. He reeled his line back in and juggled the rod into the crook of his arm. He used the hem of his shirt to wipe his face. His shirt had been clinging to the damp skin of his lower back, but it curled and peeled away as he tugged up the front side. The cool air on his bare skin was absolutely glorious.

He let his rod fall to the ground with a groan. He clutched the edge of his shift and wafted it up and down and away from his skin. The Hufflepuffs next to him giggled. Harry turned away from the students and faced Severus. The man averted his eyes. His cheeks were bright red. Harry paused then continued. Severus blinked several times in a row. Harry pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and lowered his shirt, smoothing it out against his skin. Had Severus been checking him out? His stomach flipped over at the thought.

Harry cleared his throat. “I’m not having any luck.” Severus crossed his arms and looked back around at Harry.Harry took a couple steps towards him. “I suppose it’s a good thing—”

Harry pitched forward. His toe caught against a rock. His hands flew outward, aiming to catch himself before he could hit the ground, but wound up clutching onto two broad shoulders instead. Long fingers dug into his hips, holding him firmly at arms’ length. He was nose to nose with Severus, eye to eye. Harry could smell his vinegar-y breath and see that his eyes were a smooth brown. Harry watched, fascinated, as Severus’ pupil dilated and flooded out the coffee color with pure darkness.

“Severus—”

“Whoa there, Potter!” Rolanda called out and laughed. Her laughter was echoed by the students. “Walk much, son!”

Severus’ eyes snapped shut. He pushed Harry off of him. Harry tumbled to the ground, landing on a hip and an elbow. The gravel buried itself into his flesh and made him ache. It was a gentler landing than the original one would have been, but it was infinitely more painful.

**********

The shower stall filled with a steamy, soap-scented fog. Harry couldn’t believe there was enough hot water left for him after the students and other professors had showered. Shocked, but so very grateful, he tipped his head back to rinse the shampoo from his hair.

The camp was quiet tonight with everyone worn out from a day of hiking and fishing. They’d returned to the site in time for dinner, right as the sun began to kiss the horizon line. After cooking and clean up, the students cloistered themselves away in their tents. Harry suspected they wanted to chat and socialize away from their professors’ supervision. It’s what he would have done at thirteen.

And speaking of things Harry liked to do at thirteen. If he wanted to make it through the night without molesting Severus in his sleep, he’d need to handle a few things here in the privacy of the shower stall.

Harry ran the tips of his fingers up and down his stomach, over the twitching muscles, slick with soap and water. He circled his nipples with his thumbs, brushed over the pebbled surface. Merlin, Severus had been in this shower not even an hour ago, naked and wet. Maybe he’d felt the need to have a wank too. Severus probably had a lovely cock, thick and long and a rosy pink color.

One hand splayed against the moldy, cracked tiles of the shower stall, Harry held himself up as his other hand worked along the hard length of his own prick. He circled the head with the pad of his thumb, dipped into the sensitive hollow of the slit, then fisted himself fast and rough.

Harry’d love to press Severus against this shower wall. Kiss the grumpy line of his mouth until it was pliant and swollen. He’d suck Severus off, make him beg and whimper and unravel, have him come against him tongue.

Harry’s orgasm hit bright and quick and not nearly enough. He cradled his forehead in the crook of his arm while he caught his breath, while his heartbeat returned to normal. It didn’t take too long.

He cleaned himself up all over again, and then the shower wall and floor. He dried himself off and dressed in his flannel sleep bottoms and a fresh shirt. He scrubbed the towel over his hair one last time before gathering his toiletries and such back up.

The path back to the tents was lit with moonlight. The campgrounds had added lamps here and there, just enough to guide camper’s feet without obscuring the stars. Moths and mosquitos flitted and buzzed around the yellow light. The tents flickered with light too, as the students waved their torches around. Their whispered conversations and half-stifled laughter drifted up, making Harry nostalgic for his student days at Hogwarts.

Cecily waved at Harry from where she and Rolanda were playing cards at one of the picnic tables. Harry returned the wave. It would probably be safer for him to try to join them, less torturous than curling up next to a man that literally tossed Harry over today, but he could have sworn, right before that happened, that he’d seen something in Severus’ eyes.

Heat. Interest of some kind.

Severus would be exactly the type to push away someone instead of drawing them in. Harry might just have projected what he wanted to see there on Severus’ face, wished fantasy into reality, but he didn’t want to dismiss the potential, if it existed, however small.

Harry crawled into the tent, put all of his things away, and nestled down into his sleeping bag. The scent of Severus’ soap lingered in the air. Harry propped his head up on a hand and let himself look at Severus. Harry bit his bottom lip and tried not to smile too widely, too foolishly. Severus was sprawled out on his back, an arm curled over the top of his head and the other clutching his sleep shirt over his heart. His hair was a blue, shadowy fan against his pillow. His face was soft and open with his lips parted. He had thick eyebrows, but they were shapely and sharp, as though they’d been groomed. Harry ached to run a thumb over them, to feel the gentle give of the hair.

Severus’ breath caught and he whimpered, lines wrinkled the bridge of his nose. He turned towards Harry, eyes still closed, and curled in on himself. A hand crept into the space between them, fingers brushing the edge of Harry’s sleeping bag. He snuffled, burrowed into his pillow, and went still again.

He looked so vulnerable. He looked beautiful.

Harry didn’t close his eyes for a long time.


	4. Get Your Own Binoculars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get to you. We had the flu run through our house and it put me out of commission. Mask up, friends!

**Day Three**

Harry’s nose twitched against Severus’ dark hair, the stray flyways tickling at the sensitive skin lining his nostrils. Harry nuzzled his way into the silky soft strands and inhaled, quietly, covertly, before relaxing back down into his pillow. Severus smelled like lemon and lavender, sweet and herbal, not at all the soap younger Harry would have imagined the man indulging in. Harry shifted, settled, closed his eyes. Severus shifted with him, snuffled against his neck, and tightened his hold around Harry’s middle. Harry could become addicted to waking up like this. He feared he already was.

Not that he didn’t feel guilty about taking advantage of Severus’ habit. There was no way the man consciously decided to travel across the tent each night to wrap himself around Harry, a person he barely tolerated in the daylight. Harry couldn’t believe Severus didn’t wake at all. But, as mystifying as it was, Severus slept like the dead.

Harry woke though. He’d woke as a hand burrowed its way into the unzipped side of his sleeping bag. His breathing had kicked up at the first delicate twitch of fingers against his side. He’d squeezed his eyes shut and bit back a moan as those fingers slid under his shirt, across his belly, and curved around his hipbone. Severus had hooked a leg over Harry’s thighs, pinning him in place, giving Harry no choice but to drift back off to sleep cradled by Severus’ body.

Now, here they were, morning dawning outside their tent. Severus pliant and warm and, honestly, bloody precious in his arms. Harry, charmed and content, brushed a cheek against Severus’ temple. Severus’ fingers curled and uncurled, gently, against Harry’s side, nails tracing goose pimples into his skin. Harry shivered, hard, and a whimper broke from Severus’ lips. Severus pressed impossibly closer. His breath puffed, hot and humid, against the pulse point in Harry’s throat. Harry untangled a hand, lifting it to card his fingers through Severus’ hair, quieting him. The hair was so fine, so soft, it flowed and fell over Harry’s knuckles like water.

God, Harry wanted. He wanted to roll his body on top of Severus’. He wanted to run his hands up and down his long arms and legs, across the flat plains of his chest and belly. To taste the salty sweetness of his skin. He wanted to trace the fluttery pulse at his wrist, his scarred throat. Press a kiss to the strong heartbeat beneath his sternum. Harry wanted to take Severus’ hands in his. He wanted to bring the man’s tapered fingers to his lips, to feel the cool skin against his own. 

He couldn’t though, of course. Severus would not be pleased if he knew this was happening. He would definitely not be interested in Harry’s sexual advances. To Severus, Harry Potter would always be a child, a nuisance. A burden left to him, first, by Lily Evans, and then again by Albus Dumbledore. Two larger than life, pedestal figures that Harry had no hope of competing with, especially in the mind of someone as impressive as Severus Snape. Harry was a peon in the midst of those three. No matter how much Harry wished it. He had very little hope of ever charming, let alone seducing, a man like Severus. Not that Harry was giving up. Not yet.

Harry inhaled. Closed his eyes. Let Severus’ weight press him into the ground. Soaked in this wondrous, warm, endearing moment. He exhaled, opened his eyes, wiggled his hips sideways, until his lower body was no longer under Severus’ lanky leg. He slid left, until his body met the tent wall, curving it outward. Severus groaned, clutched for the lost heat of Harry’s body. Harry dodged him, propping himself up on an elbow. Giving up, Severus curled into himself, rolling onto his stomach, completely on top of Harry’s abandoned sleeping bag.

“Severus.”

Nothing.

“Severus, it’s time to get up. We’re on breakfast duty.”

The sharp edge of Severus’ shoulder blade cut across his back, lifting and falling as he slept on. It begged to be traced by able fingers, kissed by soft lips. Harry reached out, his hand hovered, trembled. He pulled it back.

“Severus,” he said, raising his voice. “Severus Snape.”

Severus’ brow creased and his nose wrinkled. He pressed a grumbly noise into Harry’s pillow. He looked unreasonably adorable, like Rosie waking up from an afternoon nap.

“You are not having another lie-in. Not while I cook for the entire camp site.” Harry glanced at the tent door, the sunrise casting dark shadows against the fabric, and then back down at Severus. He reached out again, clenched and unclenched his fist, genuinely worried that if he placed even a single finger on Severus’ sleeping form he wouldn’t be able to stop touching him. “Wake up, you bloody git.”

His tone was sharper than he intended, and the one eye Severus had visible over the fluff of pillow popped open. It focused on Harry, then on the tent wall Harry was pressed against, and finally down to the hair’s breadth of space between the two of them. His cheeks pinked up as he rolled to his back, shuffled himself back over to his own nest of blankets.

Encouraged by the hint of Severus’ conscious humanity, Harry cleared his throat of the urge to assuage Severus’ embarrassment. “We have to prepare breakfast this morning, remember? It’s our—”

“Yes.” Raspy with sleep and clipped with annoyance.

“Not much of a morning person, eh?”

Severus turned a glare on him. Harry chuckled and sat up. Severus clicked his tongue and returned his gaze to the ceiling. He scrubbed at his face with both hands. It made a rough, scratchy sound. They were both of them getting a bit scruffy and stubbly. Harry hadn’t ever used anything more than a shaving charm. He wouldn’t even know where to begin with a razor, even if he wanted to, or even had one out here. He couldn’t imagine Severus was in a much different boat.

“Well,” Harry said, grabbing his kit and crawling towards the exit. “I’m going to the loos. Don’t fall back to sleep. If you aren’t at the hob in twenty, I’ll drag you out by the ankle.”

Severus lifted his head from the pillow. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Don’t tempt me, Severus.” Harry smirked.

Severus’ gaze darkened.

Harry disappeared through the tent flap, a grin stretching across his face.

**********

Six slices of bacon sizzled in the skillet on the camp stove. Harry gave a wary glance to the little gas canister powering the thing. It smelled a bit unsafe, but Rolanda and Cecily had cooked with it well enough. Severus stood next to him, watching, in jeans and a grey jumper. His hair was tousled and his posture subdued. His expression was blandly curious. If he had any particular emotions about once again waking up snuggling Harry’s pillow, he was keeping them well-buried.

Harry pushed the bacon around in the grease. “Smells nice.”

“I despise bacon.”

“No one despises bacon.”

“I do.”

Harry scoffed. “Alright. There are a couple of leftover sausages from yesterday’s breakfast. I can throw them on here for you.”

Severus grunted. He turned to the plastic tub full of supplies and rummaged around. Harry moved the finished slices to a platter lined with paper roll. He scrapped away a bit of the grease before placing another six slices into the skillet.

“How do you feel about eggs?”

Severus lined up neat piles of cutlery. “I feel neither sentimental nor hateful towards eggs.”

“No, you prat. How do you like them prepared?” The students began to wander over from their tents, rubbing their eyes and chattering. Harry swapped out another round of finished bacon for the last few slices and the leftover links of sausage. “I was going to scramble them for the kids.”

Severus placed a carton of orange juice beside a stack of paper cups. He twisted it round and round in a circle. “I don’t care for the texture of scrambled eggs.”

“Alright. What about fried?”

“Potter.” Severus gathered fruit in a bowl as the kids assigned to help them ambled up. “I honestly do not care.”

Harry half-listened as Severus delegated various tasks to the students: cutting up fruit, preparing toast over the campfire, pouring out servings of juice, and wiping down tables. Harry cracked eggs into a bowl, leaving one behind in the carton. He scrambled them up with pepper, salt, and a bit of cheese. Back at Hogwarts, Severus usually ate a soft-boiled egg for breakfast. The elves served it up to him in an egg dish with a little spoon. Harry liked watching his firm grip on the spoon as he cracked the delicate shell, his nimble fingers as he dipped buttered toast into the oozy center. Harry tapped the rounded peak of the last egg.

“Hollingseed,” Harry called over the Ravenclaw girl. He pulled a small pot out from the tub of supplies and handed it to her. “Will you fill this with water for me?”

“Of course, Professor.”

As she skipped away with the pot, Harry added the last of the bacon to the platter. He grabbed a plate for the couple of sausages he’d cooked, wishing he could place a warming charm on them. Instead, he pulled off a bit of aluminum foil and sealed it over the plate. It was the best he could do out here.

When Hollingseed returned with the pot, Harry smiled and thanked her. He took the coffee percolator off the hot plate and replaced it with the pot. He poured out the grease from the skillet before he dumped in the scrambled egg mixture. He pushed the eggs around the skillet while he waited for the water to boil. It didn’t take long for it to bubble up and roil enough for Harry to drop in the last egg. It dipped and bobbed under Harry’s watchful gaze. He peeked up at Severus. With a blue tin cup of black coffee in hand, Severus supervised the children completing their various tasks. Harry pulled off another bit of foil and shaped it into an impromptu egg cup.

Once everything was ready and lined up on the table, Harry called the kids over to serve themselves. Rolanda and Cecily tagged along behind them. Severus plunked himself down at a far table.

“Wow, guys!” Cecily eyed the platters of food, glanced over her shoulder at Severus, and then smiled at all the kids. “It looks great.”

“Yeah, everyone did a bit of something.” Harry arranged the egg cup between two slices of toast, cut diagonally, and a couple of orange wedges. He shifted the sausages to one side so he could fit a dab of jam and a pat of butter onto the plate. Satisfied, he nodded and picked it up. He smiled at Cecily. She gave Harry a curious look as he walked away. Over his shoulder, he called out, “It all came together nicely, I think.”

As Harry approached, Severus was swirling the dregs of his coffee around with one hand while the other propped up his head on the table. Harry’s stomach jumped into his throat when their eyes met. The plate shook a bit as he placed it down in front of the man. Severus glanced down at the plate, up at Harry, then down at the plate again. Harry laid out the silverware on either side. Severus’ eyebrows smashed together, wrinkling the skin between them into deep lines. Harry retreated. One backwards step at a time. Dark, confused eyes followed him. He didn’t think too many people had made breakfast for Severus Snape just because they wanted to. That had to be worth a couple points in Harry Potter’s favor. Harry smirked and spun on his heel.

Harry went back for his own breakfast: toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, a banana, and, of course, the requisite coffee with milk and sugar. Then, he sat himself down beside Cecily and across from Severus.

Rolanda gave Harry a knowing look and winked. “What does one have to do to get a special breakfast made by Harry Potter?”

Harry grinned and said, “You are all eating a special breakfast made by Harry Potter.”

“Some more special than others.”

Severus arched an eyebrow at Rolanda. Keeping his eyes on her, he dunked a sausage into the creamy yellow yoke of his egg, brought it to his mouth, and bit into it. Harry chuckled around a bite of banana. He watched Severus eat his breakfast with a satisfied feeling warming his chest.

**********

Light dappled the ground around them as it streamed in through the tree canopy. Harry fiddled with the neck strap on his binoculars. The things were hanging all the way down to his bits. Whoever had used them last must have a torso like a bloody snake. Severus, arms crossed and face passive, watched him struggle with the clasps and snaps.

“We are going to want to be real quiet.” Rolanda stood in the center of the clearing with Cecily beside her. The students, Severus, and Harry made a circle around them. “Birds are jittery creatures, and they have pretty good hearing. Very keen eyesight. So, you will want to be still as well.”

Cecily nodded. “I want us to stay together as much as possible, but, since we are out here in the woods today and might end up separated, make sure you are within arm’s reach of your buddy at all times.” Cecily looked at Harry, smiled, and swept a curl behind her ear. She placed a hand on Rolanda’s shoulder. “Everyone touch their buddy now.”

The kids giggled. Harry giggled, and then placed his hand on Severus’ shoulder. He felt solid and warm under Harry’s grasp. Severus rolled his eyes, but allowed it, which turned Harry’s giggle into a proper laugh.

“Yes, yes,” Rolanda said. “Thank you for the reminder that you, as well as Professor Potter evidently, are all thirteen years old. Now, remove your hands from your buddies and pull out your bird guides.”

Severus flipped through the pages of his guide. Harry couldn’t remember where his was. Cecily had given it to him that night at the Three Broomsticks when they’d gone over the itinerary. He hadn’t seen it since. _The Idiot’s Guide to Camping_ did not have a chapter on bird watching. It did have a section about how to keep birds and rodents out of the camp site by cleaning up after yourself. Good information, but not particularly relevant at the moment.

Harry did not know a bloody thing about bloody birds. He knew a bit about owls, but he’d not owned one since he actually _was_ a teenager. He’d have to fake today’s activity like a fifth year divination paper. He didn’t think it would be too hard. Surely, they wouldn’t spot that many birds in this tiny spot of forest in southern England.

Severus stashed the guide in his back pocket as he turned for the tree line. Harry took the opportunity to watch the man’s arse as he walked away. One cheek was, obviously, blocked by the book in his pocket, but the other was pleasantly round. Not too round, but not at all flat either. Harry happily followed after it.

They tromped to another, smaller, clearing. Wind rustled the leaves and the lilting twitter of birds rung out around them. This clearing had a couple boulders to sit on as well. Some of the students crammed themselves behind them, peeking their binoculars over the edge like Muggle spies. Severus tucked himself into the shadow of a tree, hands clasped behind his back. Harry leant against the tree beside him.

“Where are your binoculars?”

“As I’ve said multiple times, I am here to supervise children, not camp.”

“It’s more fun to join in.”

“You are supposed to be silent, Potter. You’re scaring away the birds.”

Harry huffed. He lifted his binoculars to his eyes and looked up into the trees. He didn’t see anything. He shifted his search to the lower branches. “Did you ever have to do stake out type stuff as a spy?”

Severus shushed him as he glanced around, then shifted closer to Harry, and said, through gritted teeth, “Shut up, Potter.”

“I hate to break this to you, Severus,” Harry kept his voice low, “but everyone knows you were a spy.” Harry offered his binoculars over to Severus, who shook his head and looked away. “I suppose—”

“Potter, I have no desire to talk about that here.”

Harry pressed his lips together. “Right. Sorry.”

“Or ever, anywhere.”

Well, Harry felt like a twat. He pushed off from the tree. He lifted the binoculars back up to his face, partially to move on from the conversation and partially to hide his now blushing cheeks.

“Very quiet now,” Cecily whispered from a few trees down, pointing up. “In the tree there, you can see a Magpie sleeping tucked against the bark.”

Harry and all the kids pointed their binoculars in that direction. There was a scattering of appreciative noises. “Oh,” Harry murmured. “I see it.” It was a pretty thing. Black and dark blue feathers with a splash of pale white on its chest. “Severus, it looks like you.” Some of the kids chuckled, nervously. Harry turned around in time to see Cecily cover her mouth and Severus shake his head. “It’s even got a green tail.”

“You imagine I possess a tail.” Severus’ inflection made the sentence more an annoyed statement of fact than a question. Harry smirked and offered up the binoculars to him again. Severus made a very put upon sound, but took them. Harry unlooped the strap from his neck and tossed it over Severus’ head. Not an easy feat, the tall git. Severus clicked his tongue and said, “It looks nothing like me. It looks like a normal bird.”

“Agree to disagree.”

Severus shifted to another tree, then another. Harry watched his long, delicate fingers wrap around the binoculars, watched them carefully manipulate the focus wheel. Severus put his back to Harry, scanning the higher branches behind them. Severus hummed. “Oh, there. I’ve found one that looks like Potter.” Harry, Cecily, Rolanda, and the students spun to find it. Severus continued, “Small, exceedingly small. Ruffled. Disheveled. Missing a few feathers. Obnoxiously colorful. I do believe it is a Great Tit.”

“Oi.” Harry glared in Severus’ direction, but the corner of his mouth tugged upward.

Rolanda stage-whispered. “That’s a type of bird, Potter.”

“Oh. I knew that.”

Severus smirked. “No, you didn’t.”

“Rude. Alright, give them back now.” Harry took the binoculars from Severus’ hands, unintentionally pulling the man’s face down towards his. Very close to his own, in fact. Their eyes locked together. Severus breath, minty sweet, warmed his cheek along with another fierce blush. Harry’s heart skipped a beat and want tugged low between his hips. Severus narrowed his eyes, took the strap off from around his neck and backed away. Harry shook his head to clear it, sighed, and mumbled, “Get your own binoculars, Severus.”

**********

Harry rolled his neck against the back of his cloth camp chair. Stars dotted the blue-black sky above him. Curls of smoke laced between them. Harry lifted a hand and twiddled his fingers, wanting to touch the beauty of it, to seal it into his memory. He needed to get out of the castle more. Appreciate the beauty of the normal world. He couldn’t even remember the last time he simply gazed up at the night sky.

He dropped his hand back to his belly. His full belly. He, Severus, and a few of the kids had made a kind of taco thing for dinner. They cooked up some hamburger meat with seasonings. Then, everyone added it to individual bags of crisps along with some cheese and chopped up veggies, salsa, and beans. It was good and Harry had had three of them. Cecily had actually managed to bake an apple cake treat over the campfire. Harry couldn’t _not_ have some of that too.

“Severus.” Harry rolled his head to the left. “I think I ate too much.”

Severus scoffed. “Most likely. You hoovered up everything not nailed down.”

“Haha.” Harry curled forward and groaned. “Why did you let me do that?”

“When have I ever been able to stop you from doing as you pleased?”

_Just this morning._ When Severus’ arms hugged him close, his thigh draped over Harry’s, his head nestled in the crook of Harry’s neck. Harry’d very much wanted to do some pleasing things. Pleasing for the both of them. Hopefully. Harry sat back with a sigh.

The campfire roared in front of them. Severus had pulled his chair up nice and snug again. Harry suspected the man had trouble keeping warm. It would explain the tent cuddling. The students circled out around them, wrapped up in blankets and jumpers. The air smelled of wood and sap and smoke and the lingering remnants of dinner.

He’d done a shit job of impressing Severus today. It had started with such promise. A little snuggle as the sun came up. The man seemed to enjoy his breakfast. But Harry had been useless at finding birds, hopeless at identifying the ones others spotted. He’d gotten completely turned around when he’d tried to use his compass to lead them back to camp. He’d made the ugliest friendship bracelet during craft time. Dinner hadn’t been his idea and Cecily’s apple cake was the real star of the meal. Now, he’d given himself a stomachache like a toddler at a birthday party.

Harry crossed his arms and felt sorry for himself. Even the students’ laughter, Rolanda’s good humor, and Cecily’s smile were annoying him. He should just send himself off to bed. But, of course, then he’d have to face the bloody temptation that was a docile, sleep-warm Severus Snape.

“Potter’s looking sad,” Rolanda said. She sat just on the other side of him but she’d spoken loud enough for all to hear. “Must be time for some ghost stories. A good scare will cheer him up.”

Harry didn’t know what to do with that logic, but gave her a half-hearted smile.

“I’ll go first!” Kentmore, a Slytherin boy, stood up and cleared his throat. “There was a vampire, but he didn’t suck blood. He ate hearts whole.”

Some of the kids gasped, some laughed, but they all gave their full attention. Harry threw a grin to Severus, who tossed Harry the classic Snape arched eyebrow. Harry shuffled down, got comfortable, and readied himself to be entertained. Stories ping-ponged from one student to the next. Tales of vampires and poltergeist and Muggle witch-hunters. There was one about a toxic sludge that oozed through the plumbing that had even Harry shivering.

“Cold, Potter?”

Harry jumped. Severus’ voice was close, whispered right into his ear. “A bit, yeah.”

“Not scared?”

“Course not.” Harry turned his head, and almost knocked noses with the man. If they were any closer, they’d be nuzzling like bunnies in a burrow. Keeping his voice low so as not to interrupt the Hufflepuff girl telling a story about giant spiders, Harry asked Severus, “Are you scared?”

Severus gave an unimpressed look and twisted to the other side, away from Harry. He bent over. Harry could hear him rustle through his pack. When he turned back around, he had a grey jumper in his hands. Harry glanced from the one in his hands to the black one Severus was already wearing. Harry opened his mouth to ask why he had two jumpers on him, but was stopped when Severus tossed it at Harry’s face.

Harry removed it from his face and shot him an appropriate expression before pulling the sweater over his head. The arms were too long and the shoulders a little snug, but Harry warmed instantly. He smiled at Severus and said, “Thanks.”

Severus nodded, settling back in his chair and tucking his limbs tightly back against his body.

Harry buried his nose into the soft fabric. It smelled like Severus. Citrus-y and herbal. Harry closed his eyes and drifted away on it. Three days ago, he’d not known this scent at all and, now, it sparked a flame low in his gut. His senses lit up. He ached to touch, to reach out and possess. Harry opened his eyes, watched the campfire flames dance, and plotted ways of accidentally keeping the jumper foreve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea if Walking Tacos are as popular in England as they are in the States. But this is what Harry made for dinner.   
> https://www.the-girl-who-ate-everything.com/walking-tacos/
> 
> Cecily's Apple Cake. Also very good. Very easy. 100% recommend.   
> https://jillcataldo.com/dutch_oven_apple_dump_cake/


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